Pomeranians & Piercings

This year for my birthday I am going to pierce my nose. Why, yes, I AM serious. For no other reason than I like tiny, little shiny things. Kind of like a bird who is willing to get run over on the freeway in exchange for a sequin. It also has significant personal meaning for me, but there's no point in trying to explain how an additional hole in a body part that already has 2 can hold biblical relevance.

I am also going to save up and buy an annoying, yapping miniature furball that can wear obnoxious sweaters and be called things like "pookie". Yes, I AM saying this with a straight face. I am going to save up for a mini Pomeranian, although I doubt I can afford a true micro and will instead have to get a purse/pocket size. More's the pity......... the micro ones are truly the most irritatingly cute. They actually make me throw up a little in my mouth they are so kawaii. Perhaps I'll commit true cute suicide and name it Bijou and teach it to potty in the toilet, and buying it little carpeted steps so it can sit on my bed and shed.

Michael is none too pleased with either of these developments, but in true Michael fashion has approved my pursuit of idiocy in hopes that I get sidetracked before July. The odds are in his favor actually. I have wandered off the clear path of many grand pursuits because I saw something shiny and became, figuratively speaking, of course, roadkill on the busy freeway of life.

This project will from henceforth be known as the Furball Fund and I highly recommend donating large sums of money to it. My family can donate to the cause because they find it highly amusing to complicate Michael's life with his wife's shenanigans (they had to put up with it for years after all), and his family can donate to it because an annoying, needy little dog almost guarantees that I won't have a reproductive relapse and try to procreate. Again. Note the "veiled" threat here.

And, no, I am NOT using up my Midlife Crisis. Believe me, you can write my current behavior off to possible just sheer stupidity, but when I have my midlife meltdown, you won't be able to mistake it for anything else.